It Just Won't Quit
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: G1. Another Ironhide and Chromia ficlet from me. Amazing how the past can haunt someone.


Recommended Music: It Just Won't Quit by Meat Loaf

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Ironhide opened weary optics to a darkened room. His chronometer told him that he still had several more breems of recharge that he could get . . . yet he found that he couldn't close his optics to slip back into recharge, no matter how much he willed himself to. Letting out a frustrated growl, he resigned himself to getting up. 

He knew why he'd awoken from a semi-peaceful recharge. _She_ had awoken him. How, he wasn't sure, but Chromia had. A sure sign that he missed her.

'Chromia,' he thought mournfully as he moved across his quarters. 'I hope you're doing all right, girl. Primus knows that I'm not.'

It had been a little over an orn since they'd gone their separate ways. During that time, he'd met and fallen in love with another Femme, a cream-coloured beauty with a faded green trim. Dreamweaver. They too, however, had drifted apart in the short amount of time they'd been together, but at least he'd been able to truly understand why Dreamweaver had left him.

Before they'd gotten involved, she'd put in for a transfer to the outer territories. They'd been together for a few lunar cycles before she got the news. After that, it had become a conflict of interests. She was needed where she'd put in for transfer and he at Iacon.

'Still think about her, too,' he sighed silently to himself. 'Can't believe I've let two . . . no . . . three remarkable Femmes slip by me like that. Maybe that's why I can't recharge worth a smeg. I've made some pretty bad mistakes and I know it. Primus, I'm such a fool.'

With a shake of his head, Ironhide set about for another long day with very little recharge.

888888888

'Slaggit, why can't I stop thinking about him!'

Chromia punched a nearby wall, her optics flashing in anger. Of all the Mechs that had to be completely unforgettable to her, of all the Mechs that had to invade her recharge and make her exhale in wistfulness, it _had_ to be Ironhide. She hadn't known a moment's worth of peace since she'd left him. Then her anger vanished some.

'I shouldn't complain about him,' she told herself. 'He's completely different from Techno . . . Ironhide never cheated on me . . . he never made me feel like I was second-best . . . slag, he even taught me a couple of good hand-to-hand combat maneuvers . . .'

She leaned against the wall then slid to the floor.

'Maybe I shouldn't have left him . . . Primus, I hope he's doing okay . . . Better than me, at least.'

Chromia sat on the floor for a few moments then shook her head of her thoughts. She had a long day ahead of her, and she'd be going on very little recharge once more.

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"Are you all right, Ironhide?" came Jazz's inquiry. "You look like Megatron ran you through a smelting pit and back again!"

Ironhide gave him a dirty look.

"Gee . . . thanks," he groused. "I love you, too, Jazz."

"I'm serious, though," the black and white Mech stated. "You look terrible . . ."

"I'm fine," Ironhide shook his head. "I'll be all right. Just not getting enough recharge."

"How come?"

"Just . . . haven't been. That's all," he replied, somewhat dismissively. "Come on. We got work to do."

"All right," Jazz frowned. "But I'm going to talk to Stealth once our shift is over."

"What for?" Ironhide groaned. That was thee last thing he wanted was for his older brother getting involved.

"Because you can't keep going like this," Jazz stated, folding his arms some. "You know you can't."

"Jazz, just let me handle this my way, all right? I'll be fine. Really."

"No way, Ironhide. You're not going to brush me off _this_ time. I'm talking to Stealth about this later."

"Do you really have to?" Ironhide growled.

"Would you rather I go to Ratchet?" Jazz shot back, causing Ironhide to narrow his optics.

"That isn't fair, Jazz. You're fighting dirty," he retorted.

"Hey, all's fair in love and war, Ironhide," Jazz shrugged.

"All right, all right," he finally conceded. "Tell Stealth. I don't care."

"You're coming with."

"Now you're pushing your luck, Jazz."

"Ironhide," he began, "this is serious. If you're having a hard time recharging and need something, wouldn't you rather it be Stealth or Ratchet giving you the right kind of sedative?"

"A sedative isn't going to help with what's bothering me . . ." Ironhide began.

"No," Jazz agreed, "but it will help you to get some recharge at night. Come on, Ironhide. Don't do this to yourself again. Please."

Ironhide exhaled softly then hung his head some. How did he end up with such stubborn friends like Jazz and Prowl?

"All right. I'll go with."

"Thanks, Ironhide," Jazz smiled in relief. "Now come on. We're going to be late."

As he followed Jazz into the main hangar bay of Iacon, Ironhide glanced up at the starry sky above them.

'Why won't this leave me alone? Am I still in love with her? Have I really found what I've been looking for only to lose it again?'

The sky offered him no answers.

'I knew it,' he sighed softly. 'I'm cursed.'

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"Chromia? Chromia!"

"What?" Startled, Chromia glanced up to see who had spoken. In front of her stood Eros, a light grey Femme who, she felt, needed an attitude adjustment. The younger Femme was scowling at her.

"Daydreaming again?" she sneered. "Not like you, Chromia. You're usually right on top of things."

"What do you want, Eros?" she ground out as politely as she could. No sense in starting an _unnecessary_ fight.

"Daimyo wants to see you. He sent me to get you . . ." the Femme began. Chromia got to her feet then headed for the corridor.

"Thank you, Eros," she stated. "Watch the console for me while you're here."

"Of course, Chromia."

The girl's tone caught her attention and she turned around, plastering a sweet smile on her face.

"Oh, and Eros . . ."

"Yes, Chromia?"

"I will be telling Daimyo that you're watching my station for me and, that if you're not here when I return, I will be rearranging your face plate. Okay?"

Eros's jaw dropped and her optics widened.

"Okay then," Chromia nodded. "I'll be back in five breems. See you then!"

'Primus, Ironhide, why did you have to curse me like this?' she thought miserably as she made her way to see her commanding officer. 'I can't even think straight anymore.'

Her footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, a contrast to the emptiness she felt inside.

'What I wouldn't give to take everything all back.'

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"You need to take it easy, Ironhide," Stealth told him. "You're wearing yourself out. _Again_."

"No," he murmured drowsily, sliding off the medical bed. "Can't take it easy . . . Don't want to start drinking . . ."

A hand rested on his shoulder and he was pushed back. Worried blue optics gazed at him.

"You're burning yourself out, little brother," Stealth stated. "I can't let you leave here. Not like this."

"But . . ."

"No," the older Mech shook his head. "I'm not letting you leave. Not until you've gotten a decent amount of recharge. What would Chromia say if she saw you now? Or Dreamweaver for that matter?"

"Probably call me a fool for still loving her," Ironhide snorted but his voice held no bitterness. "Both of them would."

"No. That's what _I_ would call you. _She'd_ hit you upside the head for allowing yourself to become so worn down then yell at you for good measure, and so would Dreamweaver. I know it, and you know it."

Ironhide didn't say anything to that. After all, Stealth was right. They both wouldn't want to see him running himself down like this. But he didn't know what else to do. Other than going to Chromia just to see her one more time, to touch her . . .

His optics closed and he remembered no more . . .

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'I've been such a fool,' Chromia thought as she gazed at the ceiling. 'I shouldn't have left him . . . Things were so much easier, somehow . . . a little more bearable, at least . . . No . . . I've made my decision. I must live with it. It's my only option. I can do this. I really can.'

Closing her optics, Chromia willed her desperation for Ironhide to go away . . . and for recharge to come and claim her once more.'

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"Well, look who decided to rejoin the land of moving parts!" Jazz exclaimed teasingly as Ironhide walked into the command center.

"Looking good, Ironhide," Prowl nodded, smiling a little. "Finally got some recharge, I see."

"Yeah," Ironhide chuckled some. "No thanks to Jazz."

"Hey!" the younger Mech pouted mockingly. Ironhide shook his head and smiled. Somehow, around them, he could relax some. Not as much as he could when he'd been around Chromia but he still could.

'As long as she's doing all right,' he told himself as he took his seat, 'that's all I care about. She's a strong Femme. She can make it . . . just like I can.'

Somewhere, on the other side of Cybertron, a blue Femme was thinking similar thoughts about a certain red Mech.


End file.
